Garden Poem by Saydra Basta

Crush petals into powder
And rub it deep into my skin
Absorb the pigment into my veins
Make me beautiful on the inside
Ivy wraps around my bones
Digging its roots into my marrow
I'll call it growth
I'll plant a garden in my soul
And water it with my blood
Swallowing dirt and inhaling dust
But how long before I'm overrun by weeds
When thorns sprout from my fingertips
And cut away the foliage
When my garden is not my own
But belonging to an earth that wants back this plot
Who will look upon this wild brush
And see there were once roses here
Where only a graveyard remains?